


crack open the cosmos and reveal the oceans of us

by CaptainHarleyQuinn (orphan_account)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Begging, Bruises, Choking, Crying, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 01:40:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1839667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/CaptainHarleyQuinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Len’s fingers are a hot brand on his flesh, five points of a burning ache at his throat as Len pins him to the bed on his back that it’s almost impossible to breathe around them.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <em>Jim arches hopelessly into them, face open and honest in a way it can only be when he is sprawled upon this bed, pinned open and held naked by southern bones and vulnerable honesty that drags his entire secrets from his bones and throws it into the vast vestiges of space. He whines, pressing into the hand Len has wrapped gently, soothingly, around his throat, and his own fingers slowly come up to clinch around Len’s thick wrist, blue eyes wide and almost wet as he watches Len smile comfortingly down at him.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <em> “You’re gonna be okay, darlin’,” He murmurs, nuzzling his nose up the smooth curve of Jim’s sharp cheekbone, following it with the soft brush of his tongue as he catches Jim’s desperate tears that fall from wet eyes. His cock is achingly hard, thick and heavy against his stomach and he arches into the hand around his convulsing throat, holding him pinned, toes curling in the duvet as Len presses harder down between his quivering thighs.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	crack open the cosmos and reveal the oceans of us

_**crack open the cosmos and reveal oceans of us** _

 

**o0o**

 

Len’s fingers are a hot brand on his flesh, five points of a burning  _ache_  at his throat as Len pins him to the bed on his back that it’s almost impossible to breathe around them.

Jim arches hopelessly into them, face open and honest in a way it can only be when he is sprawled upon this bed, pinned open and held naked by southern bones and vulnerable honesty that drags his entire secrets from his bones and throws it into the vast vestiges of space. He whines, pressing into the hand Len has wrapped gently,  _soothingly_ , around his throat, and his own fingers slowly come up to clinch around Len’s thick wrist, blue eyes wide and almost wet as he watches Len smile comfortingly down at him.

 “You’re gonna be okay, darlin’,” He murmurs, nuzzling his nose up the smooth curve of Jim’s sharp cheekbone, following it with the soft brush of his tongue as he catches Jim’s desperate tears that fall from wet eyes. His cock is achingly hard, thick and heavy against his stomach and he arches into the hand around his convulsing throat, holding him pinned, toes curling in the duvet as Len presses harder down between his quivering thighs.

“ _Bones_ -,” He chokes out, rough with tears and something he can’t really explain, something that makes his heart beat stronger and faster, a wolf pack at the bottom of his throat as the skies howl within his sternum and he feels as if he is being pulled too tight and yet not tight enough, a violin string improperly waxed and then plucked and he feels like he will fall apart with just the slightest of touches. Len trails his other hand down his ribs, fingers hardly touching his ribs and it makes something burst inside of Jim, a whimper cracking his throat as he feels Lens cock, hard and heavy, resting against his thigh.  _God_ , how he wants.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Len says, and he flexes the fingers around Jim’s throat, just a little too tight and Jim gasps, breath almost sparse and difficult to find and he lets out a sobbing breath when Len relaxes his grip and gently palms Jim’s cock, large fingers curling around his thick shaft and  _pulling_. “You’re doing so well, Jimmy,”

Jim lets out a gasping sob, fingers flexing against the wrist against his throat, those fingers burning delicate bruises into his flesh and it feels like he’s beneath a microscope, everything pulled loose and ready to be analysed and yet, and yet Jim has never felt more free, never felt more lovely and open and honest, something that breaks his sternum wide open and pours his secrets out to the winds and to the trees that rattle around his bones.

 “ _Bones_ - _please_ ,” It’s a desperate plea for something more; something that will crack his bones and rebreak his skeleton into something he can look upon with no disgust.

“I know, darlin’, I know and you’re doing so good for me,” He’s soothed by a hand coming up to brush his hair away from his forehead, a gentle touch that grounds him as much as it makes his head spin and his lungs struggle for breath as he cries, pressing gently into the brands at his throat, feeling those fingers curl slightly just against his carotid point and he knows Len can feel his heart, beating like a hummingbird and it makes something break, yawning wide and open inside of him as Len presses a chaste kiss to the sharp curve of his jaw, and Jim can feel his cock, hard and hot, bare against the side of his ribs, Lens knees digging into the bed besides him and he keens, because he wants to be broke open, made to feel like has deserved this pleasure; that he has atoned for his sins and that he no longer needs to lie prostrated against the shadow of his father and thinking that he is never good enough-

Len keeps his large hand on his throat, a delicate balance that leaves Jim had his mercy and Jim has never felt so free, flying high and floating easily because he can feel the asteroids trailing his skin, strength cracking his armour and remaking him into something that is more human, less space and more emotion, not this broken and shattered piece of glass that has been cracked under a heel far too many times and cannot be pieced back together.

“You’re doing so good, baby boy-,” The nickname, so very rarely used outside of something like this, makes something inside of Jim  _choke_ , twisting and snaking and it lodges his heart in his throat because Len says it so sweetly, so  _lovingly_  and it makes Jim ache to reach out and trace the lines of Len’s heart upon his face and let the whole world know just how fiercely they love each other; for they love each other like the writhing of the ocean waves, the glistening of the rocks that will stumble their feet.

Jim loves Len with the hearts that beats in time with the squalling of the birds that fly overhead when they stand at the shoreline, a hummingbird heart beat fast and rapid against Len’s rough palm; and Jim knows Len loves for the heavens within Jim’s skin, the universe shining against their sternums, galaxies strewn across each of their eyes and ghosting back into each other. Jim loves with the roaring of the universe, broken and cracking with the strength of asteroids, the brightness of quasars within his palms and souls and the revolving nebulae against his thighs that Len worships each night.  “Doin’ so damn good, darlin’,”

He feels the press of fingers to the sharp of his hips and he arches up, feeling like the swell of the sea is cracking his voice as he tries to form words around the sobs stuck in throat, but Len just soothes him, whispering quiet words that filter slowly through Jim’s dazed mind, the large hand at his throat keeping him gently pinned and making him float freely into the beckoning loom that opens wide and consumes him whole into their gentle grasp. “Bones-please, I can’t-I can’t,”

“I know, Jimmy, God, I know, just a little longer, okay?” Len says, and Jim gives a choked off moan beneath his hand, Len settling easily between his splayed thighs. “You can wait just a little longer can’t you?”

“Ye-Yes,” Jim stutters thighs burning as he watches Len through wet eyes. “But Bones,  _pleas-_ ,” It ends in a gasping whimper, choked off with lack of breath as a hand skips past his weeping cock, hard and flushed red with his desperation that stains his cheeks pink and presses against his hole and it feels like the world is exploding, cracked wide and open, a yawning chasm as out reaches something with grasping, hungering fingers that wants to take Jim over the very edge of the precipice.

The coldness of the lubricant makes him tremble, but Len is just so very soft and gentle, keeping his eyes fixed on Jims and Jim has never felt so precious, almost like a Russian doll, crafted from the porcelain with galaxies strewn across his skin and the oceans hidden in his eyes and he reaches a hand down to grasp Len’s broad shoulder, an anchor as much as a sign and it makes Len sigh, a sweet sound that pulls at Jims sternum.

A finger presses in, and Len leans up and down, and Jim has to close his eyes when he feels Len’s breath gentle skitter over his pink cheekbone, heart beating fast, finding it hard to catch his breath as the fingers that feel more like hot brands against his throat press delicate bruises into his whitening flesh and he knows he is going to have marks; possession that will show the world who he belongs to; strangely enough, he has never felt so free.

“ _Bones_ -please _please_ ,”

“Shhh, baby boy, you’re okay, I’ve got ya,” Len says, and he tightens his fingers just slightly, rhythmically and Jim can almost feel the bruises that will come through, feeling another finger, slick and wet and cold, stretch his hole tight and he chokes, turning his face so he can see Len’s eyes and grasping Lens wrist tighter because it feels like he’s being pulled together and apart all at the same time, and he has to continue staring at Len’s eyes, his own wet and shiny with tears and Len smiles gently at him, flexing his fingers inside of Jim and he cries out, feeling something build up inside of him that he can’t put name to because he’s never felt anything this intense, this exhaustive-

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but not yet,” Len says, and he stops moving his fingers and the world shatters and repairs itself around Jim’s crying whimpers, begging and pleading.

“ _Please_ , Bones, oh god please-,” He whimpers, bite swollen lips just brushing against Len’s, and Len surges forward, still so soft and gentle, pressing a kiss to his swollen mouth as he pushes in his fingers in a different angle that causes Jim to let out a cry that ends up muffled beneath Len’s insistent lips. Len pulls back, corkscrewing his fingers up into Jim’s quivering body, Jim clenching down hotly on those two thick fingers and the hand around his throat is the only thing that has stopped him from climbing from the bed and taking what he wants.

“I know sweetheart, but just a little longer, okay? Just for me,” It’s a plea, a plea for patience and trust and Jim has never felt more in love. He nods as much as he can, Len’s hand blocking the majority of his movements. “You’re doing so good, Jimmy, such a good boy,”

The words set something alight inside of him, burning brighter and brighter until it seems like his blood is made from liquid quasars and he will never burn as bright as he does in this moment. His cock is hard and weeping, flushed and wanting, desperate and Len moves at an angle that allows his arm to just rub against it, and Jim bucks up, tears leaking from his eyes, catching in his sweat slick hair and Len presses his forehead to Jims temple.

“Please-,” It’s broken, a small whimper cracking like a star on the edge of running out of fuel. Jim stares up at Len with wide eyes, swallowing and feeling his adams apple catch on Len’s rough, calloused palm. A third finger fucks up into him and he  _wails_ , because he’s so close and yet so far away, a hand clutching Len’s shoulder as he gasps, breathless and wanting, feeling Len’s breath in return, curling his nails into the naked flesh and  _god_ -

“Soon, baby boy, soon,” Len says, and he changes his angle again, and Jim can’t hold back because it feels like liquid fire is racing through his veins; tearing him apart only to piece him back together; like he has been broken and then rebirthed anew and nothing will ever be the same again as he arches into the palm around his throat, and he’s shaking and quivering, about to fall apart-

“Bones-,” He keens, and he’s being taken to pieces, falling and drowning as the oceans slip over his head and he needs-he needs-

“C’mon darlin’,” Len murmurs, presses bruises into Jim’s jaw by his teeth and tongue, fingers smearing marks over his throat and bruising him from the inside out. “It’s time, okay? Let go, sweetheart-“

And the world is on fire.


End file.
